


hearts will skip a beat

by perfectlyrose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Feelings Realization, Flirting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sheithlentines 2019, Shiro (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, more like... he's in hardcore denial but he gets there in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 10:16:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17785514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: “Black Paladin, are you and your mate not staying for negotiations?”Shiro turns to stare at him, bewildered. “What?”“You and the Red Paladin are a mated pair, are you not?”He sees Keith go stiff next to him. Lance lets out a squawk.“They are,” Allura cuts in before he finds his tongue.“We are,” Shiro echoes. He fumbles until his hand lands on Keith’s shoulder and hopes his smile doesn’t look as suspect as it feels.Shiro and Keith need to pretend to be in a relationship to participate in negotiations. There's nothing fake about the feelings Keith inspires in Shiro, though. Shiro just needs to realize it.





	hearts will skip a beat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roundabout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roundabout/gifts).



> Happy Valentine's Day, Boot! Hope you enjoy this offering of a fake relationship leading to a realization of real feelings! ♥
> 
> This is canonverse but not set at any particular point in canon.

“Say that again,” Shiro says, hoping against hope that he heard wrong.

The turquoise alien levels what Shiro thinks is a glare at him. The three eyes that move independently of each other make it hard to parse expressions this early in their acquaintance. “Only mated pairs are allowed at the negotiation table,” he repeats. “An exception has been made for Princess Allura but will not extended to anyone else.”

A stunned silence falls over the group of paladins. This isn’t the first time they’ve run up against odd negotiation restrictions but most of the time they’re waived or altered for the Paladins of Voltron. The Vutarians apparently have no such intentions.

“Thank you for your consideration,” Allura says smoothly. The only indication of her stress is the tension around her lips. “It is appreciated. Would someone be available to take the non-mated paladins on a tour of the capitol building? It is quite lovely and we would love the chance to learn more about your culture.”

The Vutarian, Trulin, if Shiro remembers correctly, waves a hand and one of his attendants steps forward. She trains her eyes on Hunk, Pidge, and Lance. “I am called Brillun. It would be my honor to escort you today while negotiations are in progress.”

Shiro barely keeps his irritation at not being acknowledged in this offer under wraps. His fingertips itch with the urge to start tapping against his thigh.

A barely there touch to his elbow draws his attention. Keith’s hand is already back at his side but he offers Shiro a twitch of the lips that he knows would be a smile if there wasn’t an audience. Some of the tension drains out of Shiro and Keith’s expression eases minutely before he shifts his focus back to the Vutarian contingent.

Shiro tunes back in just in time to hear Brillun ask the other paladins to follow her, still not acknowledging him or Keith. He bites back a sigh and moves to do just that when Trulin speaks again.

“Black Paladin, are you and your mate not staying for negotiations?”

Shiro turns to stare at him, bewildered. “What?”

“You and the Red Paladin are a mated pair, are you not?”

He sees Keith go stiff next to him. Lance lets out a squawk.

“They are,” Allura cuts in before he finds his tongue.

“We are,” Shiro echoes. He fumbles until his hand lands on Keith’s shoulder and hopes his smile doesn’t look as suspect as it feels. “Apologies, we’re just used to keeping it a secret. There are others who would try to use our relationship to hurt the team.”

He squeezes Keith’s shoulder, trying to apologize without saying anything. Keith lets out a sigh and relaxes a smidge under Shiro’s hand.

Trulin gives them an inscrutable look before waving a hand at Brillun who bustles the other three paladins away. “Do not feel obligated to hide your relationship here,” he says once the group is several yards down the corridor. “It is something to be celebrated, not disguised. We value openness and honesty between mated pairs.”

“We understand,” Keith says, surprising Shiro by being the one to speak up. “We wish we didn’t have to hide as often as we do.”

“It is a relief to be somewhere we don’t have to lie,” Shiro agrees, the blatant falsehood slipping easily off his tongue.

Trulin nods, looking somewhat appeased. He addresses Allura again. “We will show you to a private room to rest for a few dobashes while the negotiation table is prepared for the correct number of people.”

Having the exact number of places prepared for any event is important to the Vutarians, Shiro remembers. Coran mentioned it in his pre-mission briefing.

“Thank you,” Allura says, accepting the offer with a nod of her head.

Another attendant steps forward and leads them to a room not far from where they were standing without introducing himself. He leaves after informing the group that he will be back to collect them when the negotiation table is prepared.

The sound of the door closing is loud as a gunshot.

Allura glances around the bare room and then taps her ear to warn them that there could be listening devices planted.

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Keith breathes. “This is definitely weirder than normal.”

“Are you okay with this, Keith?” Shiro asks. His stomach clenches at the thought of forcing Keith into a uncomfortable situation. He doesn’t like the idea of leaving Allura to handle negotiations alone but he’ll do it if Keith really objects to this charade.

Keith hesitates for a moment, eyes flicking up to meet Shiro’s before skittering away to one of the blank walls. “Yeah. I can handle this.” He draws a deep breath and turns the full weight of his violet gaze on Shiro. “Are  _ you _ okay with this?”

Shiro’s heart kicks up a few notches like it always does when Keith looks at him like this, all concern and soft care cloaked in intensity. “Yeah.”

Allura’s eyebrow shoots up and Shiro realizes he may have sounded a little breathless. He can feel his cheeks heating up as she starts talking, choosing her words carefully. “What Trulin said was correct,” she starts. “They value solid, visible relationships above all.  _ Romantic _ relationships. I don’t want to make either of you uncomfortable since I know you’re not used to your relationship being on display but…”

But presenting themselves as a mated pair who are completely, obviously, undoubtedly in love with each other would be a valuable negotiating tool.

Shiro steals another look at Keith and finds that his face is close to matching the accents on his armor. He reaches out and rests his hand on his upper arm. “Keith? You can say no.”

Keith shakes his head. “No, I’ll be fine. We can do this.”

“Negotiations are likely to last a few days,” Allura says. It’s a warning that they’ll have to keep up this charade the whole time.

“We can do this,” Shiro echoes. “We’ll be fine.”

A knock on the door prevents Allura from saying whatever her skeptical look was a prelude to. It immediately disappears in favor of the blank expression she wears in political meetings. 

The door opens and the attendant pokes his head in. “The negotiation table is prepared. Please follow me.”

Allura leads the way after throwing him and Keith another searching look. Shiro hesitates for a moment before taking Keith’s hand, twining their fingers together.

Keith’s breath hitches but he doesn’t pull away. Shiro bites back a smile as they head into the hallway. There could be much worse situations than being attached at the hip to his best friend for several days, he thinks.

They are led to a spacious conference room and directed to three unoccupied chairs. Allura’s stands apart from the others. The ones meant for Shiro and Keith are positioned no more than six inches apart.

A quick glance around the room shows that mated pairs sit almost pressed against each other. Some of them are staggered, with one half of the pair closer to the table by several inches. Shiro assumes that it means that only the person closer to the table is actually participating in the negotiations.

He’s pleased to note that his and Keith's chairs are in line with each other. They take their seats, thighs pressed together. Shiro swears he can feel the heat radiating off Keith, even through their armor.

He surveys the room again and notes the level of contact between pairs. Shiro lays his right hand on Keith's thigh and feels the other man tense.

“Relax,” Shiro whispers, ducking his head to speak close to Keith's ear. “They look very tactile so we need to be, too. Just move me if I do something you don't like.”

Keith nods and visibly forces the tension from his shoulders. Shiro's lips quirk up in a smile and he plants a quick kiss to Keith's cheek as he pulls back. He sees Keith's cheeks flame up and squeezes his thigh. This could definitely be fun, seeing how much he can make Keith blush.

Keith takes one look at the smirk on Shiro's face and a matching one forms on his face. Shiro has a fraction of a second to recognize the familiar spark of Keith accepting a challenge before he leans up to whisper in Shiro's ear. “You know, two can play this game, Shirogane.” His lips graze the shell of his ear. Shiro shivers. “And I always play to win.”

He is frozen in place as Keith sinks back into his seat, still smirking. Keith’s cheeks are still flushed but Shiro is certain his aren't much better currently. Playing to win, indeed. 

Keith rests his hand on top of Shiro’s and turns his head just in time to look at Trulin as he calls the meeting to order. Shiro’s gaze lingers on Keith’s face for a moment longer before turning as well.

Shiro pays attention to the negotiations, he does, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also fully aware of the position of his hand on Keith’s thigh. He half wishes that there was fabric instead of armor under his touch, that he was touching with his flesh hand instead of his prosthetic so he would be better able to feel the heat of Keith’s hand over top of his.

A representative from a city far to the west of the capitol is talking, one of their eyes trained on Shiro and Keith. Shiro bites the inside of his cheek, wondering if they’re not doing enough. They’re supposed to be presenting a united front and inciting goodwill and maybe a hand on the thigh isn’t enough. Perhaps the representative can’t see their contact from where they sit.

Shiro turns his hand over and laces his fingers with Keith’s. He doesn’t look away from the Vutarian who’s talking as he lifts their joined hands to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to Keith’s knuckles before lowering their hands to the table.

He can’t look away to make sure Keith is okay with the gesture or check for another of the blushes he’s collecting, but Keith presses his thigh against his harder and squeezes his hand in reassurance. It’s enough to give Shiro the confidence to answer the representative directly with a rebuttal of his argument.

Keith’s thumb dragging up and down against the metal of his hand while he talks is equal parts distracting and soothing. He gets another squeeze of the hand as he finishes making his point. Keith jumps in to push the issue further before handing it off to Allura.

Shiro knows his smile has to be on the sappy side as he watches Keith address their hosts but his whole chest is overflowing with warm pride at seeing him step up as a leader. The only tell that Keith isn’t comfortable playing diplomat is his tight grip on Shiro’s hand.

Shiro is more than happy to return the soothing rub of his thumb while he speaks, glad to be able to provide support so easily.

Allura shoots them both a couple of glances over the course of the meeting but he never reads disapproval in her expression so he just keeps doing what he’s doing. It’s one of the better negotiation meetings he can remember attending and it has very little to do with the actual progress made, which seems positive at the very least.

It has everything to do with holding Keith’s hand, he thinks. The contact keeps him focused, for all that he can’t stop considering how well their hands fit together. He thinks he’s keeping Keith grounded as well. Add in that it’s earning them brownie points with the Vutarians and he rather thinks it’s a win all the way around.

As the meeting breaks up for the day, Trulin addresses the Voltron representatives. “You and the rest of your team are invited to dine with us tonight.”

“We gratefully accept your invitation,” Allura says. “If we may return to our ship to change into our dinner attire, we will return in time to dine with you.”

An odd look passes over Trulin’s face and Shiro worries that they’ve somehow just offended him. He feels Keith tense next to him, sensing the same thing. 

“We have already prepared chambers for your contingent to stay in during these meetings,” he says, one eye on each of them. “They contain dinner appropriate clothing in the correct sizes for everyone.”

The tension sings through the room, everyone remaining slowly going still. Keith’s grip tightens and Shiro automatically soothes his thumb across his hand again, the movement rapidly becoming habit already.

“Of course,” Allura says. “I simply didn’t realize. We happily accept your hospitality. If someone could lead us to where we are staying, we would be most grateful.”

“Of course,” Trulin replies. The same man who led them to the meeting room earlier steps forward and gestures for them to follow him.

They are led through a maze of hallways before he stops in front of an ornate door, painted a deep orange. “These are your chambers, Princess Allura,” their guide says, making a hand gesture that Shiro recognizes as a sign of respect. It seems to translate the same as a shallow bow on Earth. “The Paladins are all on this hall as well. Brillun will bring the others back to prepare for dinner shortly.”

“Thank you,” Allura says. The hand gesture she offers in return is slightly different than the one made by the guide. The intricacies have escaped Shiro thus far. “Will someone come guide us to dinner at the correct time?”

“I will, Princess,” he says.

She inclines her head and then fixes Shiro and Keith each with a look. “Do not get too distracted in your room. Dinner is soon.”

Shiro’s ears are burning with the ferocity of his blush as their guide agrees with her and he can see Keith in a similar state out of the corner of his eye. Allura subtly taps her ear again. Right. Rooms could be bugged which means he won’t be able to talk any of this over with Keith unless they’re very careful.

He nods in acknowledgement.

“I think we can control ourselves,” Shiro says dryly. “We’ll see you in a bit.”

She flicks her eyes down to their hands, still linked together, and then turns and enters her room.

“This way Paladins.” Their guide leads them to the next room down. The door is slightly less ornate than Allura’s and is a shimmering silver instead of orange. “If you require anything else, there is a bellpull in your chambers. Pull it and someone will come to assist you.”

“Thank you,” Shiro says. He doesn’t want to offend with a misused hand gesture so he just offers a smile.

Keith surprises him by making one of the intricate gestures with his right hand. Shiro catches the impressed look on their guide’s face before Keith opens the door and pulls him inside their room.

Keith drops his hand as soon as they’re over the threshold and slumps back against the door, shutting it with his bodyweight. Shiro darts his eyes over him, taking in his slumped shoulders and closed eyes.

He keeps his voice quiet in case their Vutarian guide is still just outside. “You okay?”

His eyes open, violet irises glinting in the shadows. “Yeah. Just a lot of people and it’s not over yet.”

Shiro’s mouth quirks up in a smile. He starts to raise his hand to offer a comforting touch before remembering that they’re in private now, and Keith might not welcome the contact.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that he wanted to cup Keith’s cheek instead of going for their normal shoulder clap. It’s just a side effect of hours of being in constant contact with Keith, he’s sure.

His hand feeling colder than normal must be as well. He clenches it in hopes of dispelling the sensation.

“Got a bit of time before having to face everyone again,” Shiro says.

“True.” A hint of a smile crosses Keith’s face and he pushes himself up straight.

“Let’s check out the rest of this place.” Shiro sticks out his hand without thinking this time, wiggling his fingers.

Keith rolls his eyes and pushes past him. “Dork.”

“You wound me. I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this slight, Keith.”

Keith snorts as he looks over his shoulder at Shiro. “Can’t believe the rest of them don’t know how dramatic you are.”

Shiro’s smile widens and he trots forward to catch up with Keith and whisper near his ear. “My acting skills are serving me well here, thank you very much.”

He straightens just in time to see the smile drop from Keith’s face. 

“Yup. Sure are,” Keith agrees. He walks away, movement stiff, and tugs open the door on the left wall of the sitting room they found themselves in.

Shiro frowns as he tries to keep up with the shifting mood, not sure why his comment landed so poorly. A question is forming on his lips when he steps into the room behind Keith and almost runs into the back of the other man.

It’s a bedroom, in an almost literal sense. The room is half the size of the sitting area and almost the entire space is filled with the bed, leaving only two feet of space between mattress and wall on each side, despite it being only about the size of an Earth queen bed.

Keith takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Shiro recognizes the tell, knows that he’s reining in frustration and the words that often accompany it. He’s just not sure if Keith is frustrated with the situation or him.

“We’ve shared smaller,” Shiro offers, nudging him with an elbow.

Keith doesn’t look up to share in the nostalgic smile on Shiro’s lips as he thinks back to a couple of slightly awkward sleepovers at the Garrison and the one time they were forced to spend the night at the shack due to a sandstorm.

“Guess one of the couches is out of the question,” he grumbles.

Keith’s voice is barely audible but Shiro still worries. He tugs on Keith’s shoulder, turning him so he can catch his eye. Shiro taps his ear and then makes a circle with his finger to indicate that the room could be bugged.

“I know,” he says with an eyeroll, moving out from under his touch. “I’m not stupid.”

“Never said you were,” Shiro replies placidly, staying at a soft volume. “Just reminding you.”

Keith snorts. “Like I could forget.”

He walks back into the sitting room. Shiro trails after him. The other doors lead to a bathroom that is bigger than the bedroom, and a closet that holds a change of clothes for both of them. Keith makes a face at the clothing and then flops onto the couch.

Shiro takes a seat on the other end of it once he finishes a quick inspection of their dinner clothes. He lets the silence sit for a minute, watching his friend sink into his head. His breathing is too even to be anything other than a deliberate choice. Worry starts to creep up his spine as he recognizes the calming pattern. “Keith, tell me what’s wrong?”

Keith’s violet eyes dart up to meet Shiro’s gaze before skittering away to stare at the floor. “It’s nothing.”

Shiro moves closer. “You’re doing breathing exercises. Did I make you uncomfortable?”

Keith’s head snaps back up. “Shiro, no.”

“Because I can dial it back since we’re not used to this.”

“Shiro,” Keith cuts in, “it’s fine. I’m fine.”

He shoots him a disbelieving look.

“I am.” Keith pauses, a corner of his mouth twitching down. “I will be. It’s  _ fine _ .”

“If you’re sure,” Shiro says.

“I am.”

Knowing that that line of questioning is closed for now, Shiro goes for a subject change. “So,” he drawls, letting a smirk crawl onto his face, “you still going to play to win?”

Keith’s grin is a lightning strike, sudden and devastating. “Oh yeah.”

Shiro laughs, heart beating faster and chest feeling lighter now that Keith doesn’t look so upset. “Good. Because I am too.”

“I expect nothing less.”

They both settle more comfortably on the couch. Shiro turns his head to get a better look at Keith. “Hey, how’d you know the hand sign thing to make earlier?”

“Oh. Memorized the ones we saw during our initial introductions and then watched the other Vutarians interact around us so I could pick up the differences. Easier to remember than a bunch of formal words,” he admits, cracking a small smile.

“For you,” Shiro snorts. “I’m better with word memorization. Glad we’re required to be attached at the hip because I haven’t picked up the signs at all. At least one of us can be inoffensive.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “How long do you think we have until dinner?”

“Hungry?” He reaches out and pokes Keith’s thigh with his foot.

Keith grabs his ankle. “Yes.”

“No getting  _ distracted _ ,” Shiro teases, trying to pull his foot back. Keith’s grip is too strong to easily escape.

“Can’t believe that’s the only time frame they gave us.” Keith’s cheeks are going pink. He lets go of Shiro’s ankle.

“Mmm, we don’t even know how long, on average, Vutarian sex lasts,” Shiro points out, watching Keith’s face turn redder. “We could have a whole bunch of time or none at all.”

“Allura is the one who told us,” Keith points out.

“Don’t know how long Altean sex las-”

“I can’t believe this is what you’re thinking about.”

Shiro knows his grin is made of nothing but mischief as he aims it at his best friend. “Well, I could be thinking about  _ our _ average and if it measures up. We could-”

“Stop,” Keith groans, burying his blushing face in his hands. “No distractions, remember?”

Shiro laughs and watches the blush spread down to the exposed parts of Keith’s neck. He wonders how far down it goes.

“I’m going to change,” Keith says, pushing to his feet.

Shiro watches him walk over to the closet and select the smaller set of clothes inside. “But I like you just the way you are, babe,” he coos.

“You and your terrible sense of humor are on thin fucking ice, Shirogane,” Keith shoots back as he walks into the bathroom. The door closes before Shiro can manage to form a retort around his grin.

He chuckles to himself and walks over to the closet to grab the set of clothes meant for him. The shirt and pants are both made of thin, soft material that reminds him of the Altean pajamas available in the castle. The pants are black and the shirt is a silvery color that seems to shimmer when the light hits it. A black jacket made of heavier fabric and a pair of shoes that look like they might be loafers - if loafers were generally purple and made of mostly fabric instead of leather - complete the ensemble.

Shiro shoots a glance at the closed bathroom door before he starts stripping off his armor. He piles the pieces of armor in one of the armchairs before quickly stripping off the black undersuit. He folds it in quick, efficient motions and lays it next to his armor.

He pulls on the soft pants and is pleased to find that they fit, even if they cling a little more than he expected. The shirt is the same way. It’s the right size but sticks close to his body. Not nearly as skintight as the undersuits, but it is more form-fitting than what he’d seen on the Vutatians today. This is specifically dinner attire, however, so maybe that’s the reason for the discrepancy. 

He leaves the jacket hanging but slips on the shoes and goes over to the bathroom door. Shiro hesitates for a second before knocking. “You okay in there? I’ve already changed.”

The door swings open and he is met with a scowl. He almost doesn’t notice it as he sweeps his eyes over Keith to take in the outfit he was given. His shirt seems to have the same shimmer as Shiro’s but is a deep ruby red. His pants and jacket are both black, same as Shiro’s, but his shoes are a red, a shade or two darker than his shirt.

The fabric clings to Keith as much as it does to Shiro and he really, really wishes he hadn’t noticed that because he can feel his ears turning pink yet again.

“You look good,” Shiro manages, pulling his eyes back up to Keith’s face.

The scowl is gone, replaced by something much softer, something much more guarded as he raises his eyes to Shiro’s. His cheekbones are dusted red. “You too. Did you need the bathroom?”

“Just wondering what was taking you so long,” Shiro says. His heart is pounding too fast and he wants to take another look at the way Keith’s shirt lovingly skims his torso but he keeps his eyes fixed on Keith’s face. “I know you couldn’t have been fixing your hair.”

He reaches out and ruffles the mop of hair in question, marveling as always at how soft it is.

“You’re just going to make it worse,” Keith complains, ducking out from under the touch. “You know I can’t actually get it to behave.”

“Takes after the rest of you.”

“ _ Thin ice _ ,” Keith reminds him. “Are you going to take twenty minutes to do your hair? It looks fine.”

“I don’t take twenty minutes,” Shiro protests.

Keith reaches up and pulls on the flop of white hair over his forehead, sending sparks down Shiro’s spine. “It does. I timed you once, back at the Garrison.”

Shiro sniffs primly. “At least it looks good.”

He gets a pat on the shoulder in response as Keith moves back to let him into the bathroom.

“Keeeeith,” he pouts. “You like my hair, don’t you?”

“Oh my god, you big baby,” Keith says. “Just come fix your hair so we’re ready to go.”

“Keeith.”

“Yes, I like your dumb hair.”

Shiro grants him a smile for that. “Always knew I could count on you. Now come on, maybe I can tame your hair a little bit too.”

Keith snorts. “You can try.”

Shiro takes a very reasonable seven minutes to get his hair the way he likes it, ignoring Keith’s snickers the whole time. 

“Your turn, brat,” Shiro says, walking over to where Keith is sitting on the counter.

“You will fail like all others before you,” Keith tells him. He has his most serious face on to match the dramatic intonation.

Shiro shoots back a wink. “I’m not like the others.”

He buries his fingers in Keith’s hair, not bothering to hide his smirk at his friend’s blush. This is almost too easy.

Shiro focuses in on carding through Keith’s hair, trying to get it to lay flatter. The strands are soft and thick and unruly, popping back up every time he pushes them down.

“I think my hair is my Galra genetics making themselves known,” Keith offers after a minute of Shiro’s futile efforts. “It’s a bit like Galra fur from what I’ve gathered.”

“Have you asked any of the Blades how to tame it?”

“Once. And since the answer got my hair licked by someone twice my size, I didn’t ask again.”

Shiro laughs. “Fair enough. Would wetting it down help?”

“Only for a few minutes.”

Shiro continues playing with the errant strands, even as he becomes aware that there’s no need for it. He likes being this close to Keith, likes the quiet of moments like these when it’s just them and things feel easy.

He likes the feel of Keith’s hair between his fingers more than he’s willing to admit, even to himself, so he steps back and lets his hands drop.

“Maybe if you grow it out longer you can braid it,” he says. The image of Keith with a long flow of inkspill hair loose around his shoulders hits him like a sledgehammer as soon as the words escape his mouth.

“Take a page out of Kolivan’s book,” Keith agrees, oblivious to Shiro’s train of thought. “I wonder if that’s why he has the braid.”

“I would pay you to ask him.”

“Not enough money in the world, Shiro.” He hops off the counter and heads back towards the sitting room. Shiro feels a brief pang of loss as he moves out of reach and viciously pushes it down.

_ Ridiculous _ , he tells himself as he follows Keith yet again.

“So, what are you expecting from this dinner?” Keith asks, leaning against the back of the couch.

Shiro settles next to him, shoulder to shoulder so they can talk quietly. “Since everyone is invited to attend, I assume that there will be no talk of the negotiations but that doesn’t mean they won’t still be assessing us and our intentions.”

“So, everyone will still be watching everyone else while we pretend it’s not about politics.”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m worse at these kinds of things than I am in meetings,” Keith grumbles.

Shiro knocks his shoulder against Keith’s. “You were great in today’s meeting.”

“A fluke.”

“Nope, not gonna believe that,” Shiro says. “You’re a lot better at these things than you realize.”

Keith looks down at the floor, seemingly gathering himself. When he looks back up there is an frightening lack of walls behind his gaze. Shiro’s breath catches before Keith even starts talking.

“It’s easier when you’re with me,” he tells him, no hint of exaggeration to be found.

Shiro feels humbled and awed and he’s lifting his hand to… he’s not exactly sure what, when a booming knock echoes through the room.

They both jump up, turning towards the door immediately.

“Paladins, it is time for dinner.” Their guide from earlier’s voice is muffled but still distinctive.

“Coming,” Shiro calls back. He looks down at Keith, disappointed but not surprised to find his guard back up. “You ready?”

His answering smile is a small thing but bright. “Yeah. Can get back to playing the game for real, now.”

“Oh, it’s on,” Shiro agrees, snagging his jacket off its hanger and shrugging into it. “But I’m going to win.”

“Not a chance.” Keith reaches out and laces their fingers together as they approach the door.

This time, it’s his flesh hand tangled with Keith’s, the gloves of their armor discarded. The heat, even through the leather of the fingerless gloves Keith decided to keep on, is almost overwhelming.

Keith opens the door and makes another of the complicated hand gestures in greeting. Their guide makes one in return and dips his head.

“Come, we must inform the princess as well. Brillun has already retrieved the other Paladins.”

Keith squeezes Shiro’s hand and they fall in step behind the Vutarian. 

When he steps forward to knock on Allura’s door, Keith leans up to talk close to Shiro’s ear. “I’m already winning,” he breathes.

Shiro shivers and tightens his hold on Keith’s hand, not really able to refute the obvious when his face is pink and his hands are trembling just the slightest bit.

Allura joins them, falling in beside Shiro after greeting their guide.

“You two alright?” she whispers after a few moments.

Shiro nods and sees Keith do the same next to him. Not for the first time, he wonders just how good Keith’s hearing is.

“I think the pair of you are earning us a lot of goodwill,” she continues, “so keep it up. We might not be openly negotiating at dinner but the game is still being played.”

“Understood,” Shiro whispers back.

Keith squeezes his hand and Shiro knows it’s a reminder that more than one game is being played tonight. 

He squeezes back and then untangles their fingers. Keith has just enough time to look confused before Shiro slides his arm around his waist.

_ Point to me _ , Shiro thinks when Keith startles a bit, but then Keith copies the motion, letting his hand glide across the small of Shiro’s back before anchoring just above his hip with a quick squeeze.

Shiro fights back another shiver and catches the flash of a smug grin on his friend’s face.

Keith is a long line of heat against his side and under his hand. He’s always run a bit warm and it’s never been as noticeable as it is right now. Shiro’s a bit dizzy with it.

Their guide shows them to their seats at the dinner table. Again, Shiro notes that he and Keith will be sitting pressed up against each other as they were in the meeting. Allura is given the seat to Shiro’s right, and Hunk is on the other side of Keith, followed by Pidge and Lance. Across the table are various Vutarians he recognizes from the negotiations.

Once everyone’s seated, Trulin gives a short speech that Shiro only half listens to. He’s a little preoccupied with tracing the edge of Keith’s glove, dragging his fingers over the sensitive spot on the inside of his wrist and feeling  _ him  _ shiver this time.

Keith retaliates by pressing his thigh harder against Shiro’s, making him feel like he’s a few breaths away from overheating.

Trulin claps his hands, startling Shiro out of his thoughts. “Please, enjoy the food and company,” he says.

Servers with plates of food file into the room and start laying them out. A large plate with food enough for two is placed in front of Keith and Shiro. Shiro looks around and sees all the pairs at the table are set up the same. Individuals have smaller plates with half the amount of food.

The next realization is the distinct lack of utensils available to eat with.

“We don’t have to,” Keith pauses, breath hitting Shiro’s cheek as he turns, “feed each other, right?”

Shiro swallows hard. “Guess we’ll find out.”

He watches as the last plates are set down and people begin to eat. All the pairs seem to be feeding themselves rather than their partner and he heaves a sigh of relief.

“Think we’re good to feed ourselves,” Shiro whispers.

Keith picks up something that’s green and cut into a long rectangle. Shiro goes for what looks vaguely like a stuffed mushroom.

“Good,” Keith says through a mouthful. 

Shiro nods in agreement. “Don’t know what any of this is but so far so good.”

He can vaguely hear Hunk talking quickly about the different food, describing things as he tries them so Pidge knows what she wants to eat. He has a feeling that Hunk’s going to spend tomorrow in the kitchens, if he can.

Keith rests his hand on Shiro’s knee under the table, startling him back to the moment.

“Not going to let the food distract you, huh?” Shiro asks, smile turning sly.

He gets a wicked smirk in return. “There are better distractions to be had.”

And  _ oh _ , Shiro’s never going to be able to forget this particular dark-eyed expression or the way Keith’s voice rasps around the words and drops low. 

He gulps and Keith’s smirk shifts into a smile for half a second before he turns back towards their plate and picks another morsel to try.

Shiro reaches out to grab one of the same, letting their fingers brush against each other. Keith is trying to take over the game but he’s not giving up that easy.

He pops his food in his mouth and steals a glance at Keith to see the pink in his cheeks before tuning in to the conversation across the table.

Quite a few of the Vutarians have one eye trained on him and Keith at the moment and he’s not sure if that’s a good sign or a bad one. He finishes chewing and then leans over and plants a quick kiss at Keith’s temple, through his unruly hair.

Some of the eyes shift elsewhere and Shiro breathes a sigh of relief before jumping into the conversation about the food with the delegates from a city far to the south, who are seated across from him and Keith.

Keith laughs quietly when he stumbles over trying to describe cheese to people who have no dairy animals and therefore no cheese equivalent.

“Maybe Hunk could describe it,” Keith jumps in, neatly redirecting them. “He’s our resident food expert.”

The Vutarians quickly turn their gaze to Hunk who eagerly takes up the description.

“Thanks for the save,” Shiro whispers.

“Were you going to try and describe mac and cheese to them?” Keith asks, looking up at him through his lashes.

Shiro goes pink. “Maybe?”

Keith laughs. “Of course you were. You know Hunk would make you his best approximation if you asked him. Even with weird space ingredients, it’d probably be better than what the Garrison served.”

“Hey, I liked the Garrison mac,” Shiro protests, pushing against Keith’s shoulder.

“I know. Your tastebuds are seriously questionable,” Keith tells him. 

“Rude.”

Keith leans up and presses a lightning-fast kiss to Shiro’s cheek. “You put up with me anyways.”

Shiro’s smile is sappy, he knows that it’s sappy but he can’t help it. He’ll blame it on the act they’re putting on if asked but, truly, he’s going to take this moment and tuck it away next to other gestures of affection Keith’s gifted him over the years. It’s a small stash, hard won, and he treasures it greatly.

.Keith turns back to the table and reaches for the glass of wine they’d been provided. One. For them to share. They’ve both tried a few sips. It’s a bit bitter for Shiro’s taste, but Keith seems to like it.

Shiro turns to answer the question Allura lobs at him and is halfway through an explanation to Trulin of how the Lions choose their pilots and not the other way around when Keith squeezes his knee and slowly slides his hand upwards.

He gulps, trying not to react to the fact that Keith is no longer touching the safe zone of his knee, and is now feeling up his lower thigh. He focuses on his explanation and hopes his blush isn’t too noticeable.

The raised eyebrow from Allura puts paid to that notion and Shiro hurriedly wraps up his anecdote and turns back towards the table and Keith, reaching for the wine glass.

“Doing okay there, Shiro?” Keith asks once he’s taken a large swallow and put the glass back down. The expression on his face is familiar, it’s the not-quite-innocent look he’d give the officers at the Garrison when he was pulled in for a lecture about something he may or may not have done.

Shiro feels a rush of nostalgia and affection at seeing it again before Keith inches his hand up his leg further.

“You look a little flushed,” Keith says, not even bothering to fake looking concerned.

“Wonder why that is?” Shiro whispers. He darts a look around the dinner table but no one seems to be paying too much attention to them. It’s hard to think they have any real privacy when most of their dining companions can look three different directions at once, though.

Keith leans closer, hand slipping so that his fingers rest on Shiro’s inner thigh. “Like you said earlier, just move me if I do something you don’t like.”

Shiro grabs Keith’s wrist before he can move any further. If he gets much closer, his body is going to give away the fact that Shiro is so far away from not liking this and he’s not ready for that.

Keith freezes and tries to pull his hand away but Shiro’s grip prevents him from getting far. “Shiro, I’m trying to give you space,” Keith hisses when his tug proves fruitless.

“I wasn’t moving you,” Shiro answers. “Just setting a limit.”

Keith’s eyebrow ticks up. He doesn’t say anything more, just lets his hand settle back into place on Shiro’s thigh and picks up a piece of food from their plate.

Shiro takes a deep breath and turns his attention back to their plate as well. Keith’s hand feels like a brand through the thin fabric of the pants. The heat radiates through him, sending his heart tripping over itself.

It’s been ages since anyone has touched him like this, even as void of actual intent as this is. He steals a sidewise glance at the shadowbright boy next to him. It’s not like he’s never noticed that his best friend is gorgeous, but he’d filed it away as non-relevant information, behind a locked door marked with a flashing do not enter sign.

Keith’s managed to pick the lock and get his foot in the door today and Shiro can in no way ignore that he’s beautiful and actively flirting or that Shiro  _ likes _ it. Far more than he feels like he should, if he’s being honest.

He’s gotten so good at ignoring the pull of attraction that acknowledging it feels as terrifying as staring down a robeast.

Shiro breathes deep, pushing away the thrill of fear. His heart is pounding, he’s blushing, and he’s sporting a semi at the dinner table with potential allies. He’s also undeniably attracted to his best friend who still has a hand resting high on his thigh. 

He can definitely deal with all of this. 

Besides, he thinks as he steals another glance at Keith, he has a reason, an excuse, to broadcast his attraction for at least the next day. He can use this as a free pass to vent all this pent up longing to  _ touch _ that he’s suddenly aware of.

When negotiations are complete, he can shove it all back behind the door and lock it again. No harm done.

He turns to look at Keith, taking a moment to drink in the sharp lines of his profile and the way the diffuse light sinks into his hair, making it look velvet instead of silk. Keith glances over at him, a question in his twilight eyes and in the gentle squeeze he gives Shiro’s thigh.

Shiro smirks, finally letting the heat coursing through him seep into his expression. He registers the way Keith’s pupils blow wider for a moment before resting his hand on Keith’s shoulder and leaning in.

“I’m not letting you win that easy,” Shiro whispers, lips brushing the shell of Keith’s ear.

He feels the shiver go through him and squeezes his shoulder, intent behind the gesture different than their normal shoulder touches. Shiro presses a lingering kiss to the spot just behind Keith’s ear.

He only hears the bitten off moan that doesn’t actually escape Keith’s throat because he hasn’t moved out of his space yet. He pulls away and watches Keith reach for the water glass with a shaking hand.

The entire back of his neck is red and Shiro is utterly charmed.

The rest of the meal, Shiro makes sure that their fingers brush together whenever they’re reaching for food and doesn’t curb the temptation to tuck a strand of hair behind Keith’s ear or lean a little too close to make a sly comment about someone else’s conversation.

Keith’s touch is a constant brand of heat down his side and in the heavy weight of his hand, steady and overwhelming. Shiro works on taking Keith apart with continual fleeting touches, death by a thousand affectionate gestures. It’s fingers dragging against his wrist or forearm, a palm to his shoulder trailing down to press against the small of his back for half a second, a few kisses to the cheek that set Keith’s face on fire every time.

When Shiro checks on the other mated pairs to make sure they’re not doing too much, he often finds soft looks on their faces. He receives more than one fond smile before a Vutarian leans over to their partner for a quick peck on the cheek.

It’s a bit surreal that their farce of a relationship might be inspiring real couples but he rolls with it. They  _ are _ supposed to be fostering goodwill after all.

“Doing okay?” Shiro asks, echoing Keith’s question from earlier. He’s a bit surprised that Keith hasn’t responded to the uptick in Shiro’s flirting with an escalation of his own.

He lets his hand drift underneath his jacket to the small of Keith’s back, pressing gently. His eyebrows fly up when Keith practically melts into the touch, tilting his head back to look up at Shiro, eyes sparkling and soft.

Shiro swallows hard. He was prepared for the heat of anger or arousal, not the warm affection glinting in those violet depths.

Keith’s voice is soft and sweet in a way Shiro’s rarely heard when he answers. “Doing just fine, darling.”

Shiro’s entire brain screeches to a halt as the word  _ darling _ echoes endlessly in his head. His cheeks flush for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. He finds his mouth is dust-dry when he tries to stutter out some sort of response.

_ Darling _ burrows straight into the center of his chest, cracking him open. There’s no way he’s going to be able to dig it out to shove it back behind that locked door.

He wonders if he can get Keith to say it again, just to see if it has the same effect on second exposure. He’s not above begging, really.

“Shiro?”

“I’m fine,” he blurts out, finally realizing that Keith’s expression has shifted to something worried.

A smile blooms on Keith’s face. “Did me calling you dar-”

“Nope, nothing to do with that,” Shiro cuts him off. He might be willing to beg to hear it again but not here, not as a question instead of a petname.

Shiro barely holds back a groan at the realization that he shut down due to a  _ petname _ of all things. He’s held up through all of Keith’s touching and teasing and this is what gets him.

“If you say so, darling.” His fingers press into Shiro’s thigh.

Shiro’s heart trips and stutters before racing ahead. Apparently  _ darling _ was just effective the second time around, after all. If Keith figures out how easily he can weaponize this, Shiro has no shot at making it out of dinner with his dignity intact.

He increases the pressure of his hand at the small of Keith’s back. Keith leans into it again, making Shiro’s whole palm tingle.

The tiny hint of a smile on Keith’s face as he talks with the southern delegates is distracting to the highest degree. He wants to kiss it straight off his face and see what it tastes like. He bites down on his bottom lip and looks away.

Kissing isn’t on the table and he needs to stop thinking about it. 

The problem being, now that the idea of kissing Keith has made itself known, it won’t dissolve back into nonexistence. 

Shiro is still fighting to push down the impulse to lean over and steal the smallest taste when Trulin claps his hands, drawing attention back to the head of the table.

“Thank you all for joining us for dinner. We hope the food and company were to your liking. We look forward to continuing our talks tomorrow now that our bonds have been strengthened and nourished.” He makes one of the incomprehensible hand signals and Shiro hears both Allura and Keith suck in a breath at it.

“What is it?” Shiro asks, close to Keith’s ear.

“I’ll tell you when we’re back in the room,” Keith whispers back. “But it was good, don’t worry.”

Shiro waits for Allura to stand before rising to his feet. Keith’s hand falls from his thigh as he does and he feels cold at the loss.

He watches Hunk palm something to Keith and figures that’s another conversation for their room when Keith slips it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He takes Keith’s hand and lets their guide lead them back to their room for the night.

With the door closed behind them, Shiro raises his eyebrows at Keith. “So, what’s in your pocket?”

“Maybe I’m just happy to see you,” Keith shoots back, startling a laugh out of Shiro.

Shiro crowds him back against the door, letting his hands come up to rest on the wood on either side of Keith’s head. “Wrong pocket for that,” he murmurs, not quite ready to let their game drop.

Keith’s breath hitches and his eyes go wide for a fraction of a second before he’s scrambling for whatever Hunk gave him. He pulls a slim black device out of his pocket and fumbles to press the blue button on it. The device beeps quietly and Keith lets out a shaky breath.

“What is it?” Shiro asks.

“Present from Hunk and Pidge,” Keith says. He holds it up for Shiro to see better, seemingly unaware of the fact that he much prefers memorizing the exact color of Keith’s eyes from this close to looking at a piece of technology that he likely won’t understand because Hunk and Pidge are a terrifying combination of genius.

“And what does this present do?”

“Blocks any signals or transmissions from leaving this room unless it’s through our paladin helmets.”

“So, no more having to worry about bugs?”

“As long as we’re within ten feet of this device and it’s on,” Keith confirms.

Shiro lets out a sigh of relief and pushes himself back, letting Keith have his space again. “And the hand signal at dinner?”

Keith steps around him, brushing against him in the process despite there being ample room to avoid contact, and heads for the sitting room. He sets the jamming device on the table in the middle of the room and then sheds his jacket, tossing it over the back of a chair before flopping down on the couch.

“It denoted our entire party as respected friends instead of guests or acquaintances,” he reveals. “We might’ve made more progress at dinner than during negotiations.”

“Impressive,” Shiro says. He plucks Keith’s jacket off the chair and walks over to the closet. He slides both of their jackets on hangers before moving to sit on the couch.

Keith draws up his knees to make room for him. As soon as he’s seated, Keith stretches back out, depositing his feet in Shiro’s lap.

“You could’ve at least taken your shoes off, you heathen,” Shiro teases. He peels the red loafers off his feet.

Keith snickers at the twin thuds of the shoes hitting the floor. “How long are you going to last before you have to go line them up in the closet?”

Shiro raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you angling for a reminder that I know your feet are ticklish?” He sets his fingertips against the sole of his foot, a clear and present threat. Keith tenses. “A demonstration, perhaps?”

“Only if you want to get kicked in the face.”

“Fair enough,” Shiro concedes.

He moves his hands to rest on Keith’s ankles, fingers sneaking under the hem of his trousers to find the dark, springy hair covering his legs.

Shiro thinks they don’t technically need to be acting like this anymore, now that they’re alone and free of the paranoia that there might be listening devices in the room. It feels easy though, barely different than their normal interactions in the Castle.

If one of the other Paladins walked in to them sitting like this, not a one of them would so much as blink.

He likes that. He likes being able to touch Keith, to be this close. The touches at dinner had come close to burning him but this — this is all perfect warmth.

“So, do you think we played a part in the team getting promoted to friends?” Shiro asks. His fingers are all restless motion, making tiny movements against Keith’s skin, but the other man isn’t shying away.

“Probably. We were definitely being open and honest out there,” he deadpans. “Just like they wanted.”

Shiro isn’t quite sure what to make of Keith’s tone or the fact that he’s staring at the ceiling. Even without the threat of eavesdroppers, neither of them seems to be willing to directly talk about this whole thing.

“Did I cross a line?” Shiro ventures, bottom dropping out of his stomach.

Keith shakes his head. “You didn’t. I’m just getting caught up in my head again” He offers Shiro a weak smile. “Don’t worry about me, Shiro.”

Shiro grips his ankle, fingers going all the way around the slender joint. “I always worry about you.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mutual,” Keith mutters.

“Now, I know you don’t worry about yourself,” Shiro teases, wanting to lighten the mood.

“Shut up, you know what I meant.” Keith digs his heel into Shiro’s thigh.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

They’re quiet for a couple of minutes, decompressing from the day, before Shiro breaks the silence. “Think we’ll be able to wrap up negotiations tomorrow since we’re valued friends now?”

“Respected friends,” Keith corrects. Shiro bites back a smile. Keith always starts getting pedantic when exhaustion sinks its hooks in him. “And I think there’s a good chance. You’re the diplomat here. Make your own prediction.”

“That’s Allura. I’m still just a pilot.”

Keith snorts and deigns to raise his head in order to fix Shiro with a glare. “Really?  _ Just  _ a pilot, oh Black Paladin and fearless leader? Suck it up and admit you’ve become a diplomat.”

Shiro makes a face. “I guess. Doesn’t mean I necessarily enjoy it.”

“I mean, nothing’s as good as flying,” Keith says. “Kinda ruins you for all other pursuits.”

“True.” He smiles over at Keith, stuck once again by the feeling of finding a kindred spirit. He’s reveled in it since their Garrison days. “Hopefully our ‘respected friends’ status carries over to the negotiations and we can wrap them up in no time.”

“Get out of here before they start imposing weird restrictions on other things,” Keith says.

Shiro snorts. “I don’t even want to consider it.”

“They could have made us feed each other at dinner. We got lucky.”

He can imagine that all too well. The calloused tips of Keith’s fingers brushing against his lips, the plush give of Keith’s lips against his own fingertips. He swallows hard, fingers tightening around Keith’s ankle.

“Yeah,” he says, coughing to try and get rid of the sudden roughness in his voice, “definitely lucky.”

Keith quirks a small smile at him and then gives a full body stretch, heels digging into Shiro again. “I think I’m ready to test out that bed. Shower in the morning since the meeting isn’t until almost midday.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Shiro agrees. He pushes Keith’s feet off his lap and leans down to scoop up the shoes he dropped earlier.

“Knew you wouldn’t be able to leave them there,” Keith teases.

Shiro shoots a glare over his shoulder and sees Keith pulling himself to his feet. He sets the shoes down in the closet and toes his own off, leaving them lined up next to each other.

“Doesn’t look like we have pajama options,” Shiro points out.

Keith shrugs. “I usually just sleep in my boxers. That okay with you?”

He nods. “That’s fine. I do too.”

“Cool.” Keith leans down and grabs the jamming device and walks towards the bedroom.

Keith moves to the right side of the bed and sets the device on the nightstand. Shiro’s still standing in the doorway when Keith strips off his shirt, giving him a fantastic view of his back muscles rippling.

Shiro sucks in a breath and turns his back to hide his flush. There could be no talking his way out of ogling his half naked friend if he was caught in the act.

He quickly strips down and is in the middle of folding the borrowed clothes when something important occurs to him.

“Keith?”

The other man pauses in pulling back the covers, looking up at Shiro through his bangs. “Yeah?”

“I, um, I have nightmares a lot of nights,” Shiro says, adjusting the fold of his shirt until it is perfectly square. “I might wake you up.” He draws in a breath and lets it out slowly. “If it looks bad, don’t try to pull me out of it, just get out of range. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Okay,” Keith says quietly. “Same goes for you. You’re not the only one with nightmares.”

Shiro’s gaze shoots up to meet Keith’s. “I didn’t-”

Keith cuts him off. “Don’t worry about it. Not your fault and not something you can fix. I think we can agree that apologies for either of us having nightmares in the middle of an intergalactic war that we didn’t  _ exactly _ sign up to fight in are not necessary.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I guess when you put it that way…”

Keith slides under the covers before reaching over to turn out the lamp on his side. “I’m right and you know it. Now get in bed, Shiro.”

Shiro cracks a smile. “Yes sir.”

Keith is curled up on his side, facing away, but Shiro can feel his eyeroll.

Shiro turns out his lamps and crawls into bed, settling on his back. He is distinctly aware of the six inches separating them. It’s such a small distance and yet it feels like the furthest away from Keith he’s been all day.

“Sure you’re okay with another day of this?” Shiro asks, words escaping into the chasm between them in the bed. Just because he’s reveling in this chance to touch and pretend doesn’t mean Keith feels the same.

He  _ thinks  _ Keith is enjoying it sometimes, but he doesn’t want to let hope sink its claws into him.

Keith rolls over to his other side, eyes glinting in the dark as he peers at him. “Stop worrying, Shiro,” he repeats. “I’m fine with this as long as you are.”

“I just don’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable,” he whispers. “I know we’ve both been teasing but I don’t want to take it too far.”

Keith reaches out and unerringly wraps his hand around Shiro’s wrist. “I’m okay with anything you do, Shiro. I’m comfortable with  _ you _ . I wouldn’t be able to do this with anyone else.”

“Me neither.” The words slip out before Shiro even thinks about them. They taste like the truth.

Something like a sigh escapes Keith’s lips. “Get some sleep, Shiro. Still have work to do tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Keith,” he whispers.

“Night, Shiro.”

Keith’s breathing evens out and slows within a couple of minutes. He is still facing Shiro.

Shiro’s brain keeps circling the thought that he wouldn’t be doing this with anyone else. Being shoved into this situation with any of the other paladins would have been excruciatingly awkward. For all that this was sprung on them without warning, he and Keith have fallen into a convincing fake relationship rather seamlessly.

That’s the rub, Shiro thinks, watching the steady rise and fall of Keith’s chest a few inches away. Everything with Keith has felt so natural, so easy, like it is just an expansion of their friendship, a different facet of it. The Vutarians thought they were together before they even started putting on an act.

Between that and his reactions to Keith touching him, to Keith looking at him with unbridled affection, Shiro has a whole hell of a lot to think about. He’s starting to suspect that his definitely-not-platonic feelings won’t be able to pushed back behind his locked door at the end of this. Cat’s out of the bag and all that. 

He feels entitled to a mixed metaphor or two in these confusing times.

Yawning, he shifts on the bed, getting more comfortable. He doesn’t have to unknot all of this tonight. He has plenty of time to figure out his feelings towards Keith after this and a limited amount to sleep next to him and feel his heat radiate across the scant inches between them. There’s really no contest as to what he wants to do more.

Shiro is smiling when he drifts off.

//

His return to consciousness is slow, a swim through honey towards the dim light filtering into the room. Everything is warm and heavy and Shiro wants to stay right here for as long as possible.

It’s a full two minutes before he makes to move and stretch and finds he can’t. His sleep-soaked brain stumbles before realizing that he’s weighed down by more than blankets. Shiro opens his eyes and his lungs constrict as wonder washes over him. He and Keith are both in the middle of the bed, legs in a hopeless tangle. Keith’s head is on Shiro’s bicep, hand resting on his chest next to it. Shiro’s metal arm is draped over Keith’s waist.

The smile that blooms on Shiro’s face is achingly gentle. He spreads his fingers, pressing his palm into the soft skin of Keith’s back, pulling him even closer. Before caution can catch up to him, Shiro presses his smile into the top of Keith’s head and breathes him in.

This moment is precious, life changing and affirming. It’s perfect.

He nuzzles further into Keith’s riotous hair.

He already knows he’s going to pull out the memory of this on bad days until it’s worn around the edges and tinted with the patina of countless years. He wants to memorize every single minute detail to tuck away and preserve. 

Even more, Shiro wants to wake up like this again. He wants to wake up like this every morning for the rest of his life. His breath catches as he thinks about being granted that privilege. He wants the right to lean down and wake Keith with a kiss, wants to sweep his hands all over Keith and map his dips and planes and scars.

He lets out a shaky breath as the realization washes over him, inevitable as the tide. He loves Keith. He’s _ in love _ with Keith. Inarguably, irrevocably, utterly in love with this beautiful, talented, impossible man asleep in his arms.

He thinks maybe he should be surprised but this feels like an old love, one that is easy as breathing and solid as stone and only now being named for what it is. It’s why this whole charade has felt so natural.

Shiro’s next move does as well. He presses a gentle kiss into Keith’s hair, sweeps his thumb over the side of his ribs.

“Keith,” he whispers. His voice is still low and rough with sleep.

Keith makes a small noise that Shiro immediately wants to hear again, and nuzzles into Shiro.

“Keith, baby, wake up.”

“Sh’ro?” His eyes open, violet irises bleary still. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he reassures as Keith tilts his face up to look at him. He refuses to waste anymore time denying how he feels. “I just...Keith, can I kiss you? Please?”

A crease forms between Keith’s eyebrows and Shiro wants nothing more than to smooth it away, to be allowed that liberty. His heart is pounding as he waits for Keith’s response and he hopes against hope that he’s read Keith right, that he also maybe wants this outside of their act.

“You don’t have to,” Keith says finally, the uncertainty in his voice shakes Shiro to his core. He’s been such an idiot. God, Keith must have thought he was alone in feeling this because Shiro was slow off the mark. Shiro wants to erase the doubt permanently, wants him to know how loved he is.

Shiro shifts down so he can bring his hand up to brush his thumb against Keith’s cheek. “I know. But I really want to. Just for us, not for those people out there, not because of them.”

The light entering Keith’s eyes is breathtaking. “Really?”

Shiro nods. “Really.”

Keith tilts his chin up, a challenge and invitation both.“Then what are you waiting for, Shirogane?”

Shiro leans down and captures Keith’s lips, pouring all of his newly realized love into the gesture.

Keith matches him step for step and pushes him to go further, just like he always does.

//

When they emerge from their room for the day’s negotiations, Allura takes one look at their soft smiles and clasped hands and just raises an eyebrow. She lets their guide get a few steps ahead of them before leaning over and whispering, “Congratulations. You two are wonderful together.”

Both of them flush red but Shiro squeezes Keith’s hand and thrills when Keith squeezes back.

The negotiations wrap up in a matter of hours. Shiro holds Keith’s hand all the way back to the castle, ignoring the questions and teasing coming from their teammates. He pulls Keith to a stop and swoops down to kiss him, thrumming with joy that he  _ can _ . He tastes like love and alien toothpaste and Shiro comes up for air laughing. They have a new member of the Coalition and Shiro has a future full of Keith and warmth and love spinning out in front of him.

He absolutely could not be happier.

 

**Author's Note:**

> keith when they get to the meeting: _leans over to shiro as he positions his hand on his thigh,_ game’s not over yet darling  
> shiro, five seconds away from spontaneously combusting: _oh my god i love him so m uch_
> 
> find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/LionessNapping) or [tumblr](http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com)


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